


Cheers

by dormiensa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Marriage, Ministry of Magic, Politics, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-02 23:45:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5268389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dormiensa/pseuds/dormiensa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione is worried she can't pull off a successful Christmas ball for the Ministry of Magic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cheers

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: the funny and fiesty UnseenLibrarian

A frazzled Hermione slammed the front door and leaned against it.

Attracted to the unexpected noise, Draco emerged from the study. He relieved her of her packages. “Had a rough time?” He kissed her. “Hello. Glad you came home in one piece.”

Hermione huffed. “All that shoving and shouting to get at the merchandise, you wouldn’t think the season of giving and goodwill was upcoming. Thank Glinda I’m done the shopping! I don’t think I can face another one of those shark pits for a while.”

“Until your next department meeting in any case.”

“Oh, shut it. Not even the Wizengamot is as scary as a mob of Christmas shoppers.”

“Well, you’d know. Are you still getting hostile glances?”

“No, that’s you. People tend to cease conversations when they see me or just avoid me altogether. It’s to be expected. Once they’ve seen that Lucius and the others have no intention of setting up a new Dark Lord, they’ll eventually let go of their resentments.”

“In the meantime…”

Hermione kissed him. “It’s going to be tough for the next little while, but for your father’s sake, don’t engage with them. I’ve had a quick chat with Harry, and we’re going to get the members of the Order and the DA to be vocal about not raking up the past as well as keeping an eye out and intervening if needed.”

Draco sighed. It had taken Narcissa and him years to finally rid the Malfoy name of infamy. In spite the fact that he would be closely monitored while fulfilling his year of community service, Lucius’ release from Azkaban threatened to unravel all their efforts.

“At least you aren’t in charge of the Ministry Solstice Feste this year. Just sorting the seating chart will be nightmare enough. Never mind the tension that’s bound to be present on the night. Especially after a few glasses of Firewhisky.”

Draco smirked. “Just add Amortentia to the punch. Or better yet, _Imperio_ the lot of them to behave. Ow!”

“You just wait until someone’s made a snide remark about the Malfoy name. See if I’m sympathetic.”

“You’re a Malfoy, too, now. And you’ve spawned two more.”

Hermione smiled at the thought of their children. “They’re really excited to spend time with your dad. I guess we’ll have to be careful they don’t get spoiled rotten, now that both Mémère and Pépère are around to cater to their every whim.”

“Better that than the finger-pointing. I’m so glad they’re not starting Hogwarts yet.”

“Well, godfather Harry will be able to advise them on unwanted attention when the time comes.”

Draco snorted. “Potty will have his hands full with his oldest. Naming him James Sirius is just asking for trouble.”

“Well, given that he’s likely Sorting into Gryffindor, at least he’ll be under Neville’s watchful eye. Neville is well up on all tricks eleven year-olds could invent. Don’t forget he’s seen Fred and George at work and pulled a few stunts of his own.”

“Not to mention getting caught up in the misadventures of the Gryffindor Golden Trio.”

Hermione groaned. “Will you stop using that term? I’m so sick of it. Anyway, at least we didn’t rat out fellow classmates, Mr Inquisitorial Squad.”

“I managed not to get an ugly, self-inflicted scar on the back of my hand.”

“No, you just upgraded and got a Voldemort-inflicted one instead.”

“At least I didn’t have bits of Voldemort’s soul branded into my forehead.”

“You’re still a bigger shitpouch in spite that.”

“What does it say about you that you married said shitpouch? And congratulations: you’ve finally graduated from your lame ‘git’ and ‘prat’. Proud of you. Ow!”

“Just because I’m not a potty-mouth like you doesn’t mean I don’t know some nasty terms to describe you.”

“Oh yes? Talk is cheap.”

“Yes, I’ve been subjected to so much of it in my marriage that I could build an island in the North Atlantic the size of Ireland.”

“Only the size of Ireland?”

“Well, if I add the amount from work, I suppose I could smother Greenland.”

“Ha! Reckon you could bury Africa if you include the drivel from the _Prophet_?”

“Ugh! That reminds me: we’re going to need to monitor Skeeter.”

“Oh, just send her those empty jars like last time. Maybe even add some dead beetles.”

Hermione mock-glared. “That’s not very seasonally minded!”

“And a sprig of mistletoe?”

Hermione kissed him. “Stop it and help me put away the packages. A cup of tea and some snuggles would be great right about now.”

***

Hermione pressed Draco against their bedroom door and kissed him breathless.

His breath caught and his arms full of curvaceous wife, Draco murmured, “Not that I mind one jot, but what brought on this attack of fervour?” 

Hermione beamed. “I got Kingsley’s approval to make the eggnog!”

“That’s… lovely, _ma loutre_.”

“Oh, I guess I should start from the beginning—”

“And when you get to the end: stop. Ow!”

“I’ve been mulling over how we could avoid hostilities at the Feste. Your idea of adding Amortentia to the punch sparked a brainwave, so I asked Kingsley if I could incorporate a Cheering Charm into the eggnog. He didn’t see any harm in it. So, I thought a little ‘thank you’ for the solution should be bestowed on my muse.”

“And he is most amused. I love when you unleash your inner Slytherin.”

“Adding a harmless charm to a festive drink to ensure peace is hardly devious!”

“The fifteen-year-old Hermione that single-handedly created and ran SPEW would’ve balked at such goings-on.”

“That Hermione could never have countenanced a date with the pale, pure-blood prat from Slytherin. Never mind marrying him. And might I remind you that _thirteen_ -year-old Hermione so successfully brewed a Polyjuice that even _you_ couldn’t tell the Crabbe and Goyle you were talking to were fakes?”

“Pity she couldn’t tell cat hair from a human one.”

“My point is that I’m not squeamish about bending the rules for the greater good. And as I recall, neither were you when you refused to identify us after the Snatchers dragged us to the manor.”

“ _Must_ you bring that up?”

“You’re the one bringing up ancient history. Now, about the eggnog: I’m going to ask great-aunt Celia for her recipe. If we ask your parents to look after the sprogs this weekend while we borrow their kitchen, we should have more than sufficient time to make enough for the Feste. And I don’t see Narcissa objecting to our storing the batch in the cellar.”

“You’re the head of the planning committee. Why am I getting dragged into this?”

“Because you love me.”

Draco sighed. He then scooped Hermione and carried her, bridal style, to their bed. “I insist on advanced payment for my services.”

***

Having greeted several department heads and received their compliments on the decor, Hermione looked around the ballroom with proprietary pride. It’d taken the committee three days of arguing to agree on the colour scheme, but they made the right choice. The dazzling white and sparkling silver momentarily brought her back to the first social function she’d attended with Draco. They’d only been dating less than six months at that point. And their appearance had set the entire room hissing with a mixture of surprise and shock. Thankfully, her closest friends had already known and had made their support clear. Hermione crossed mental fingers that the eggnog would do its job tonight.

A voice at her elbow interrupted her thoughts. “The Ministry balls are always better planned when they have you at the helm.”

“Good evening, Pansy! I’m glad you like the layout. It took much more time than necessary to agree on the colours and theme. But that’s what happens when a disparate group of people are thrown together. I understand that having each department represented is fair and good for morale, but it’s certainly inefficient.”

“And that’s why you were chosen.”

“No, actually Kingsley specifically insisted that I be a part of the committee this year. I was a part of last year’s team, and the Heads are supposed to choose different people so as to allow for new ideas.”

“He knows you can crowd control better than anyone, should things go wrong.”

“Flattery, Mrs Potter? We both know Harry’s the best at that.”

“Harry can’t touch you when it comes to diplomacy. And in this case, you’re much better suited. Besides, you’ve got Narcissa to back you up if things really get out of hand.”

Hermione laughed. “She’s a force of nature, for sure.”

“You’d better be careful: little Katriane seems to be taking after her formidable grandmother.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Don’t I know it. I’m _so_ looking forward to her teenage years.”

Pansy snorted. “She’s got some infamous shoes to fill.”

“Don’t remind me. Her colouring is instantly identifiable. But there’s still a chance she’ll be Sorted into Ravenclaw. I just have to keep a careful eye on her.”

“Well, consider this: if she Sorts into Slytherin, there’d be a slimmer chance she’ll take after her mum and go off on reckless rescue missions, seeing as how our House is known for its cowardice.”

“Pansy! I can’t believe you’d say such a thing! Slytherins may have a sometimes staggering sense of self-preservation, but that doesn’t make them cowards.”

“Spoken like a truly corrupted wife of a Slytherin and a Malfoy.”

“I’m serious! Snape was as Slytherin as they came, yet his bravery would put the staunchest Gryffindor to shame.”

Pansy sighed. “I’m so glad we only have one son. Harry was thinking of naming a second one after Snape.”

Hermione wrinkled her nose. She and Draco had fought for months over the names of their sprogs. Luckily, a long and difficult delivery had allowed her the upper hand. Draco had been so relieved that he would’ve assented to snogging the entire Auror Office, had Hermione asked.

Pansy and Hermione were soon joined by other members of The Ladies. Hermione kept an eye on the crowd between chats and was pleased to note the cheerful mood that pervaded. More than once, to her astonishment, she saw political rivals and old enemies greet one another with the greatest enthusiasm. 

At the end of the evening, Kingsley took her aside and warmly thanked her for her excellent suggestion of the “improved” eggnog.

***

Hermione was pleasantly surprised to see Draco show up at lunch hour and bring her to their favourite café. After their server had taken their orders, Draco presented her with a red leather-bound notebook. He only smiled at her inquiring look. She opened it and gasped.

Several pages had already been filled. And they listed good deeds being done across the community and the names of instigators. As she skimmed the last written page, she saw new entries appear. Tears welled as she saw that sizeable donations had been given to the various charitable organizations and institutions. The orphanage was overwhelmed with toys. The House-elf T.E.M.P. Agency was inundated with letters of reference for its clients. The Ancient Arts Preservation Society received monies to assist with their efforts to conserve priceless magical artifacts as well as a large facility within which to store said objects. The Goblin Orchestra had sold-out seats for the remainder of their concert season. The Squib Rehabilitation Program was notified of bequests. The various magical creatures and creature habitat protection groups also benefitted. But what truly made Hermione hastily search for a tissue to wipe her nose were the small, random acts of kindness shown on the streets. And there were no differentiations of blood purity, class, Hogwarts House, and other normally-divisive affiliations between benefactors and recipients. 

“This is fantastic, Draco. I wouldn’t’ve believed these possible if the evidence wasn’t before me. How—”

Draco grinned and wiped a stray tear. “I _may_ have made the dose of liquid Cheering a _bit_ stronger and longer-lasting. And I _may_ have cast a little spell to track all the deeds resulting from my, er, modifications to the recipe. Consider it an early Christmas present to my do-good wife.”

Hermione gave a blubbery laugh and nearly knocked Draco off his chair. He grabbed the table just in time and finally got her to loosen her grip when he joked that death by appreciation-strangling was terribly ironic.

Their lunch was punctuated by squeals of delight as new entries were made.

As Draco walked toward the fireplaces in the Ministry Atrium, having seen Hermione safely to her office, he smirked. Perhaps someday, he’d tell her that he’d tampered with the Charm as a prank. He was still a bit disappointed that the hug between Lucius and Arthur never materialized. No matter. There were opportunities aplenty in future.

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: spiked eggnog
> 
> The House-elf T.E.M.P. Agency is the property of UnseenLibrarian. The empty jar idea belongs to a clever Dramione author that I can’t recall or find again—if anyone knows or identifies herself as the source, please speak up!
> 
>  
> 
> Dedicated to all victims of violence and abuse.


End file.
